


Training Scars

by SnowglobesWorks



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, First Age, Scars, Third Age, You Have Been Warned, although he doesnt necessarily mean to be, elrond has flashbacks, elrond visits graves briefly, maedhros isnt very nice, newlyweds, warning because maedhros is cruel to children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 00:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowglobesWorks/pseuds/SnowglobesWorks
Summary: Elrond explains to his wife how he got old scars and relives a little more than he meant to.





	Training Scars

****Celebrían had taken to asking about Elrond’s smaller scars, having already learned about all of the bigger ones. Some he couldn’t remember how he had gotten, just injuries won during a fight. Some were tokens of growing up with Elros. Some were old scars that had grown faint, nearly invisible. And some he had had to resolve himself to tell her about, his wife with whom he would share his life, although he would rather keep them a secret in any other situation.

There she was now, next to him in bed, her usual smile adorning her pink face. Even now, still soon after their marriage, he couldn’t believe she had agreed to be his wife. He was the luckiest man on Arda, and she deserved the world. He told her this as often as he could. He knew she felt the same, for she told him as well. He reminded her once again, and her cheeks grew pinker.

“I love you, too,” she said, voice singing like a well-played harp. They had finished preparing for bed only moments before, settling into the new rhythm of falling asleep together. Her fingers brushed over his arm while they talked, eventually tracing a very faint, very old scar.

Elrond’s face fell.

Celebrían noticed. “How did you get this one, love?” Her tone was soft and gentle, almost apologetic.

_“You have to win every battle! These are dangerous times, Elrond! Do you want to be unable to protect your own brother?”_

_Maedhros’s sword swung violently at Elrond, still only half his height. Elrond barely managed to lift his blade in time, but he wasn’t strong enough to keep the sword from biting into his arm. He fell to the ground and began to cry. Elros rushed over, and Maedhros turned to face him. Elros didn’t have his sword._

_“Never be caught unprepared!” Maedhros raised his sword as he spoke, but held it in the air, hesitating to swing. “Even when you think you are safe, danger could come from any direction.”_

_Elrond and Elros held their breath. If a scolding was all they got, today would be one of the easier days alone with Maedhros._

_And then he swung his sword._

_“No!” Elrond pushed himself as fast as he could into the way, shoving his own, smaller sword into the air._

_Maedhros hit it with a shower of sparks, but it held in place._

_“See?” Maedhros was smiling, but Elrond felt sick. “You are strong enough. Maybe you just needed more incentive.” He stared at Elros with something gleaming in his eye that neither of them liked._

_Maglor appeared outside, and Maedhros’s gaze changed from sparkling and dangerous to distant and regretful. His blade went slack. He stepped away, turning around. Elrond and Elros ran to Maglor, who swept them into his arms. Maglor looked up at his brother with mixed expressions in his eyes. Elrond counted the emotions that passed Maglor’s face. Confusion, one, hurt, two, understanding, three, and then he looked away. He hadn’t wanted to catch Maglor’s face softening. He buried his own into Maglor’s shoulder and pretended he hadn’t been looking._

“Training scars,” Elrond said finally, staring evenly at Celebrían. “Maedhros was not a compassionate teacher.”

_“Maedhros, you’re slipping again,” Maglor said angrily. “You can’t take it out on those kids!”_

_Elrond didn’t think they knew he could hear them from his bedroom. The walls were thinner than they thought, and he and Elros rarely made noises at night. He was glad Elros was sleeping, but he wished for some companionship anyway. He could never sleep when Maedhros and Maglor were fighting. Hugging his knees, he tried to ignore the sounds of rising voices. His arm, freshly wrapped in bandages by Maglor, was throbbing._

_“I’m just trying to make them strong enough to protect themselves. They’re all alone in this world. If one of them lost the other…”_

_“They’re not alone. They have us, Maedhros. They’re supposed to, anyway. At least until--”_

_“Their real parents aren’t coming back for them,” Maedhros said coldly. “We both know that.”_

_Elrond tried to squeeze his hands over his ears to block out the noise. It didn’t help. His arm hurt._

_“Fine, then, just us. If you can’t handle that responsibility, maybe it shouldn’t be ‘us’ at all.”_

_There was silence for a long, long time. Elrond hoped they’d moved somewhere else, until Maglor spoke up again, barely loud enough to hear._

_“I’m sorry, Maedhros, you know I could never leave you.” His voice was soft, comforting. Maedhros didn’t deserve that, Elrond thought. “I would never leave you alone. I will always protect you.”_

_“It shouldn’t be that way; I should be protecting you.” Maedhros’s voice was choked with tears._

_“Sh. We can protect each other. Isn’t that what you’re training the children to do? Protect each other?”_

_Elrond looked over to Elros. Protecting each other. If Maglor didn’t take them away by himself, maybe he’d try to run. But what had he been told over and over? The rest of the world was too dangerous. The only safe place was by Maglor’s side. Elrond shuffled his blankets over his head, resting on his pillow, trying to ignore the sounds of crying coming from the next room over._

Celebrían traced a fingertip across Elrond’s forehead and down the side of his face. She was wordlessly asking him to tell her more, this time about the scars that couldn’t be seen.

“I understand now why he pushed us so hard, and why Makalaurë never really stopped him. But I hated him at the time, even knowing how he had lost most of his family. He often got too rough when he was training us. He made my brother hate that he was part-elven at all.” Elrond choked on his last words unexpectedly. It was the first time he had ever so much as whispered the true reason Elros had abandoned him, left him more alone than Maedhros would ever be. He wasn’t sure he wanted to continue, but this was Celebrían, and she was safe. If he couldn’t tell her, why had he married her?

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “If you don’t want to tell me more.”

“No.” His voice shook. “I…”

“I will help you bear any burden.” Her hand took his, and he squeezed it.

“Thank you.” He took a deep breath, regaining his bearings.

_“Being an elf sucks. They’re all terrible.” Elros knew stronger language from being around Maedhros and Maglor, and he used it while Elrond’s eyes grew wide._

_“Don’t say all that!” Elrond hushed his brother, looking to the house. There was no sign anyone had heard. “It’s not every elf. Our parents were, are, nice. Our family, everyone we grew up around.”_

_“I can’t remember them,” Elros responded bitterly. It wasn’t the truth, but it was easier. “I would rather just be a human. They live good because they’re afraid of dying. Or a maiar. Then I could flatten this place to the ground, and everyone’d be afraid of me.”_

_Elrond was pretty sure that wasn’t true, but Maedhros had told them it was. If Sauron could do all that, why hadn’t he done so already? Or Melian? Why hadn’t the Valar come to save them all? Maedhros had said they were uncaring. Maglor had said they cared only of Valinor. Elrond wasn’t sure he wanted to be in a place where the Valar cared. “But once you die, you’re gone. You won’t be able to see me again, maybe. Elves never have to die, not in any way that matters.”_

_“If that was true, why does Maedhros act like he’ll never see his brothers again?”_

“Elros believed death kept a man honest. He didn’t much like the idea of Valinor. Neither of us did. But as we got older, his hatred increased, and I… mellowed.”

“Mellowed? Do you still dislike the idea of eternal paradise across the sea?”

Elrond realized he had been staring at his wife’s shoulder, a pretty freckled thing, and looked up into her eyes. “Our children might choose the same fate as Elros.”

“You told me that before you married me, El. I’m prepared.” Celebrían cocked her head, more questions written in her eyes.

“I’m not certain I will be very good at convincing them otherwise.”

“Do you think your brother made a mistake?”

_Elrond and Elros stood at the empty graves of Maitimo and Makalaurë. They had both brought two flowers. Wordlessly, they each knelt and put a flower on both graves, then looked at each other in surprise. “You brought one for Maedhros as well?”_

_Elros nodded._

_“Do you forgive him?”_

_Elros stood. “I understand.”_

_“That isn’t the same.”_

_“Then no.”_

_Years later, Elrond stood at Elros’s grave. A much more permanent thing, containing the real body of his brother. He placed two flowers down. “I understand,” he whispered._

Elrond nodded.

“I’m certain you will be able to convey that to our children, at least.”

“I will harbor no ill feelings if it is what they really want. But they must be certain.”

Celebrían bit her lip. “And if they do so choose?"

Elrond leaned back against his pillows. “I will understand.”


End file.
